Women's Voices Unite

April 21, 2010

I’ve flown Southwest
Airlines for about 30 years. This is partially because it is affordable and
partially because it is the only airline with non-puddle-jumping planes that
flies into my hometown of Midland,
Texas.

But I recently had an experience that darn near knocked my socks
off and made me seriously question my loyalty (like I have a choice unless I
want to walk to West Texas) to this company.

Here’s the sordid story in as short a form as I can stomach.
(If anyone from Southwest Airlines happens to be reading this, you can add this
as an addendum to my official complaint, #192310831.)

My toddler, who is presently 2-and-a-half, and I were on a
plane in Vegas, waiting to take off, strapped into our seats and working a
sticker book. In front of us arose some sort of clatter about the flight being
overbooked and “lap children” needing to be on the laps of their parents.

Manny the flight attendant came up to me and asked me if my
daughter was a lap child. I replied that no, she is two with her own ticket.
Manny came back a few minutes later and demanded to know her name, as if he
thought I was pulling a fast one. Which I suppose some people do. He stomped
off to check the flight roster.

Side note: Yes, Manny (or maybe it was Mannie) is his real
name. I want you parents to be forewarned about Manny’s idiocy in case you must
ever fly from

Las Vegas to Midland on flight 267 with a small child.
Manny will not be your friend, nor will he be your child’s friend.

Then Manny came back a third time, for some reason angry and
looking for a fight.

“She’s got to go,” he said.

“What?” I said, thinking he meant that my child was about to
get kicked off the plane.

“She can’t sit in the carseat if she’s not a baby. She has to
sit in the seat without the carseat if she has her own ticket.”

I’ll let all of the parents in the audience pause for a
moment and ponder the multiple layers of ignorance cast upon you in that one
fool sentence.

We proceeded to argue back and forth about how I’ve been
traveling with children for 7 years and I know that it is the parent’s choice
whether or not to put the toddler in a carseat when travelling by air.

No dice. My friend Manny made me take my toddler out of her
seat and hand the offending item over to him. The whole thing terrified my girl
and she immediately started screaming. She refused to be buckled into the “big
girl” seat, going rigid and very nearly hyperventilating. The plane was
delayed. The other passengers were annoyed, but at least sympathetic. I was
embarrassed and very nearly in tears myself. It was awful.

All the while, Mr. Manny didn’t seem the slightest bit
concerned that he had upset a small child (or small adult for that matter). He
never offered condolences or tried to explain. He was obviously having a bad
day and he decided that picking on and bullying the mom with the little kid was
a lot easier than telling the two obese men who took up three seats in the front
row that they needed to haul their enlarged posteriors elsewhere.

The dude probably takes candy from babies. He certainly
takes carseats from babies.

Then suddenly the lead flight attendant, whose name I wish I
had gotten, brought us back the carseat and apologized. I fought my kid back
into her seat with bribes of chocolate and she promptly passed out. Probably
from fear.

I thought the matter was over, but no. Manny the Asshat made
a point of coming by two more times, not to apologize but to let me know that
he was still correct.

“I looked in the book,” he said. “She has to be in an adult
seat.”

Sure buddy. I know that big kids don’t ride in laps on
airplanes, but I also know that FAA and Southwest Airlines
recommends using an approved child safety seat for kids up to age 4 or 40
pounds. I fly a lot and, unlike Manny, I tend to pay attention to these things.

I just nodded at him and made sure I got his damn stinking
name so that I could properly inform Southwest Airlines that Manny needs to get
some training in FAA standards and perhaps magically ingest a dose of human
empathy if he wishes to remain in the service industry.

The whole thing was one step away from those horror stories
you hear about titillated flight attendants asking a breastfeeding mom to get off
the plane. Not quite that bad. But horrendous nonetheless.

Yes, I filed an official complaint with Southwest and they
will get back to me within 45 days. In the meantime, I am sure Manny will act
like a complete heartless douchebag to yet another family.

God bless him, I hope someday he has children of his own.

--Robin Dutton-Cookston is senior editor of Mamazina and
lots of other good stuff too. Check out her book at The Foggiest Idea.

April 07, 2010

In a nightly, well almost nightly, ritual the kids and I all pile into bed and read one story each-if we‘ve had a super fantastic day I even toss in an extra book.

I can’t imagine finishing our day any other way. For as long as I can remember we’ve read book together, starting with simple picture books then moving on to rhyming books and now we are reading chapter books. Many times, the kids have already read the book on their own, but want to hear it out loud.

Recently read our way through the Mouse and the Motorcycle and the kids hung on every word. It was such fun to revisit a book that I loved as a child.

Reading to the kids is fun, I never think of it as a chore, although, sometimes if I have a cold making it through the stories takes a couple of lozenges.

I admit to being the kind of mom who does the voices from the books and editorializes about the characters, more then once I have pointed out that Junie B. Jones is a little to sassy for my taste.

I love the wide variety of books available. As the reader, I gravitate towards fun books…simply because I choke up reading sad or emotional books (yes, even happy books make me cry).

There have been times that I am fighting off tears as I finish reading a book and the kids can hear it in my voice and are peering at me asking me if I am okay. A few nights ago, I was sniffling my way through the ending of Ginger Jumps and one of the kids ran to get me a tissue!

I am the same way with the kid’s movies; really, it is rather embarrassing to be brought to tears by an animated car!

I love going to the library and searching through the stacks looking for that perfect book…nothing makes my day more then finding a new book by one of our favorite authors.

We love the adventures of Skippy Jon Jones and we certainly want the Pigeon to get a Puppy.

As the twins approach 9 years old I realize that our special reading time is ending. I am really going to miss that wonderful magical time with them. I hope that I can continue to sneak in the latest Skippy Jon Jones book even if it is interspersed with chapters from Harry Potter.

Jennifer is eagerly awaiting the next installment of her favorite kid’s books. She can be reached at flaten5@sbcglobal.net

March 23, 2010

I can’t believe Easter is almost here! Where did the time go? I need to get hopping and get my Easter supplies before the store packs them up and rolls out the fourth of July supplies.

I think the reason Easter snuck up on me this year is that the kids don’t need a big item for their basket this year. In previous years, Easter was the perfect time to give them scooters or 1st bikes, which meant a lot of saving and price shopping. Not to mention finding a way to transport and assemble the bikes in secret, thanks to my parent’s full size truck I got it done.

This year everyone has a scooter and the girls don’t need a bigger bike until next year so I (I mean the Easter Bunny) am free to create a basket. I am looking forward to creating a fun basket.

This morning I told the kids they needed to place an order with the Easter Bunny for items for their basket, since I want to get practical toys. I know those two words don’t go together, but let me explain.

Last year, the bunny had a momentary lapse of reason and got chirping fluffy chicks and those weird inflatable punch balloons for the baskets. Now, these items seemed like a good idea in the store, but not so much at home. The birds chirped incessantly and the balloons-well lets just say continuously blowing up the punch balloon leads to a lot of spit flying.

I had to stop them before they rattled off a list to rival their Christmas list. I told them to limit it to two things they really would like. The girls just went to Build a Bear over the weekend so they want accessories-their favorite word-or their bears. My son he wants Star Wars items (he always wants Star Wars items).

Now all I have to do is remember to get egg dye kits and candy and I will be all set. Oh yeah, and hope that a blizzard doesn’t wreck our egg hunting fun.

Jennifer is a freelance writer from Wisconsin. You can reach her at flaten5@sbcglobal.net

March 21, 2010

Sometimes I feel like I’m doing something wrong because I
don’t have my kids in a thousand million enriching and educational activities. I
see so many people burning themselves into raw nubs in the name of their kids’
emotional, intellectual, and physical development that it sometimes seems that
none of the people involved, especially the kids, are enjoying themselves.

Sure we have a couple of kid activities on the family
calendar, but for the most part I’ve let them lead the way in terms of
scheduling. And my daughters definitely prefer unstructured outdoor play or
else time in some cozy corner with a pile of toys.

Maybe this means they won’t be well-rounded enough to get
into the “best” schools, but I think I’m okay with that. I’m not worried that
my girls won’t get into Stanford. I don’t know if I want them to go to
Stanford. Of course if it turns out that my children do want to go to Stanford
I will be fully supportive. But I also just want them to be happy and fulfilled
and find meaning in their lives. And if that means City College
or trade school, so be it.

And to prove my point I’ll tell you about an amazing
childcare co-operative my friends and I have created. Yes, it’s technically an
afterschool activity. But it’s an activity that consists of goofing off outside
and little else.

Four days a week, a brood of eight kids meets under a map of
the United States
in the hallway of my first-grader’s school. Parents take turns gathering the
group, serving snacks, and supervising free play out in the school’s native
garden for an hour or so. The parents not on duty for that day get an extra
free hour of childcare.

It’s not exactly Last Child in the Woods, but then again,
our kids do go to school in the middle of the Castro neighborhood
of San Francisco.
They romp in the garden, eating sourgrass and digging for worms, and I feel
sort of proud of the small dirt oasis in our urban school environment. The
children play tag and make-believe. They climb and chase and laugh and fight
and fall in the mud and fashion slingshots out of bushes and get hurt and cry
and make amends and get punished and get over it.

It’s like the idealized version of childhood that many of us
pine away for: “In my day, we just ran around until my mom called me in for
dinner.” We’re not totally suburban 1960s, but close enough, considering the
context.

And here’s the best part. You can do it too. Just gather
some of your favorite (and trustworthy) school parents. Make a schedule and
take turns. The only cost is the snacks you bring for the kids to share on the
day you are “on duty.”

And the benefits are huge. Fresh air. Unstructured play.
Social time with friends. Conflict management skills. Free childcare for the
parents. And lots of dirt under the fingernails.

--Robin Dutton-Cookston is senior editor of MaMaZina and lots of other good stuff too. Learn about her book at The Foggiest Idea.